Accidents Happen

Chapter 3 - Desperate Measures

    When we got back to my place, I promptly put the winning bottle on top of my bookshelf and got us two big glasses of iced water. Jason sat on the couch looking very nervous.

    "I'm really not a stalker, I don't think I am crazy but the story I have to tell you might convince you otherwise."

    I replied, " The story so far is nuts - being forced to marry a terrorist leader for a trade agreement is insane.  If it has pushed you toward insanity ... Well, I can see that. We can get help for you."

    He swallowed and smiled, "I need you to promise that you won't interrupt me, no matter how weird the story gets."

    "I promise to TRY."

    "Okay, that will have to do. I want to start with you. When I knew what was promised for my future, I took the paperwork to an attorney. Everything was valid: Account with five million dollars in my name, verified; Trust legally established and unbreakable, verified; My access to said account tied up until I was married to a "Suitable life partner", verified. Set up for this by my biological father with my biological mother's pre-obtained consent, verified. Done. Finé. If I married outside of my so-called father's wishes, the trust is revoked with," He paused, looking for the right words, "'No hope of future redemption'. Now I have lived my whole life without his meddling. The fact that he wants to contribute to my future ... just ... well, just no.

    "So the attorney assured me that my father had to approve the person I chose to marry." He smiled when he saw my astonished reaction. He had a really nice smile. " Right? Exactly my reaction, CHOSE!? He clarified that there was a list in one of the codicils that that listed the requirements of an acceptable wife." He pulled a piece of paper from his shirt pocket and read it to me. " She must be beautiful. She must sing with power and energy. She must have courage. She must be able to address and persuade a large group of people. You are a literature person. She must know the writings of the world. She must be willing to to see and experience the world of which she read. Really, who talks like that? She must be physically strong. She must be graceful. She must have a solid demeanor. She must embody the finest of humanity."

     He looked at me intently. "This describes you. I knew when I touched your photo. You're it for me."

    My jaw dropped. I am not a beauty, I am nobody special. My experience in the world is limited.  I grew up in LaMar, Colorado, worked summers on a local farm, and read everything I could get my hands on. Dreams of traveling the world were budget limited to road trips to Canada or Mexico.

    " I have some, um, abilities I guess they would be called, that don't make sense, but I trust them," he said. "When I touch a picture or image of a person, I can feel the personality and concerns of the photo-person. More than I can get in person ..." he trailed off.

    He looked at me intently, again.  Like he expected something from me.

    "WHAT?!? I don't know what you are looking for."

    "I don't know what else to say. I need to know what you are thinking.  I already terrified you once."

    "More creeped me out. I am trying to get my head around what you told me.  Massive inheritance contingent on you marrying someone who fits the list, right?"

    "Right."

    "But the arranged marriage is what your dad chose. He holds the purse strings and can take it away, right?"

    "Right."

    "How can the list supercede the arrange marriage?"

    "Right."

    "What?"

    "That is my question, too. What the lawyer told me is that the codicil is binding and outside actions are secondary. An arranged marriage, although implied in the terms, is not a binding part of the revocable trust. This," he waved the paper, "is my loophole."

    "Okay." I felt SO relieved. "Then this is a marriage of convenience and, really, is a fake marriage. I can deal with that."

    He gave me a side-eye. "Wrong.." He sighed, " I need you to fall in love with me and be my real wife."

    I blinked. My head was swimming and I suddenly had a mouth full of saliva. "Oh no." I ran to the bathroom and locked the door.

    Spitting the saliva into the sink, I tried to get my bearings.  My world was spinning, and it wasn't just the alcohol.  I rested my forehead on the cold spigot. It didn't help.  I splashed cold water on my face; better. Splashed more water, then decided to take a cold shower.  As I reached for the shower spigot, there was a knock at the door.

    "Are you all right?" Jason's worried voice came through the door.

    "Fine."

    "Do you need anything?"

    "Just some privacy. Wait on the couch, okay?"

    "Okay ..." I heard him move away from the door.

    Afvter I made myself into a non-nauseated Popsicle, I wrapped up in a towel and went into my bedroom.  I decided to put on a nightie instead of my usual booty shorts and T-shirt. Wrapped up in a robe, I hung the towel up to dry and went back into the living room. 

    Jason was looking at a picture of my mom and dad. He swallowed hard and looked up at me. "I'm sorry for your loss." His eyes looked wet and red-rimmed, like he actually cared.

    "Got their last thoughts in the accident from the picture. They both thought of you."

    "Damnit." I had started to cry. "It was last year. We were getting ready to go camping and needed a new tent.  On the way back from the Outdoor Store they were hit by an eighteen-wheeler in a freak gust of wind.  Dad was decapitated and Mom was crushed.' I shook my head, "but you knew that, right?"

    "No, I didn't. Just that they weren't ready to leave you."

    He stepped over to me in one smooth movement and hugged me close to his chest. My ear was pressed to his chest, and I could hear his accelerating heart rate.

    "I wish I could take your pain away.  I wish you could trust me." Jason pulled out my chop sticks and shook out my hair while he swayed slightly.  I continued to cry all over him. I felt him kiss the top of my head.  He was humming "MLK" by U2, and I started to calm down. My mom used to sing me to sleep with that song whenever I was stressed or upset.

    "A-and may your dre-eams/ Be realized." I sang. He stepped back with one hand on my shoulder and one on the back of my neck.

    "That song has words? I got the melody from the picture. It was strong and haunting. Now I know it was you; strength and courage."    

    It was U2's tribute to Martin Luther King, Jr. So, yeah, strength and courage are in that song.  I always wondered why they wrote about King instead of Malcolm X. He was much more about community and political maneuvering. Much more vocal for equal rights and revamping the justice system for real justice. I really ..."

    "Shhh." Jason stopped me. I looked up at him. All I saw was green. Suddenly his lips were on mine.  I kissed him back. It was warm and sweet and comforting. I snuggled into his arms. He took a deep breath, hugged me closer and tossed his head back.

    Unable to stop myself, I ran my fingertips down the front of his throat, eliciting a growl-like groan from him.  I felt his nether regions stirring against me.

    "Wait." He stepped back, "we can't rush this. I want to, but I need you."

    "You need me?" I asked.

    "Yeah."

    "But not for sex."

    "Not yet. I just want that." He smiled, "I want it very much. Just not until you want me."

    "So you need me to marry you to fulfill a list of requirements that I don't meet to save you from marrying a terrorist leader, right?"

    "Mostly. I need you to actually love me. To care about me and connect to me."

    "That's scary."

    "Why?"

    "I don't know you."

    "Not yet."

    "You made a very bad first impression."

    "I know."

    "But this, right here, feels right."

    "It does."

    I leaned my head on his shoulder. His hand went right to the back of my head and started stroking my hair.

    "What do you need me to do for you, Charity?"

    "What do you mean?"

    "How can I get your trust?"

    "Be patient. Give me time. Show me you are trustworthy." I heard his heart rate begin to slow down. He led me to the couch, where we snuggled until the world disappeared.